The Show

As I left for work, the kids were at the end of the driveway digging through their bin of play clothes.

“We’re getting ready for the dress-up show,” the Bean told me. I didn’t think much of it, except that the WonderWife™ was going to have at least 10 minutes of peace that morning.

In the afternoon I called WonderWife™ who immediately directed me to her Facebook page. There she had posted a picture of a flyer the Bean had drawn. In that shaky, block handwriting that all kindergartners possess, he had written his name, our address and 6p. Sho.

“He’s been planning his dress-up show all afternoon,” WW™ told me.

“He’s actually been planning it since this morning,” I replied.

“He’s made 7 flyers and we’ve given them out to our friends in the neighborhood,” WW™ continued. “He’s going to sell cookies and lemonade.”

I was full-on chuckling. “What is he going to do? Is anyone coming?”

“I have no idea but our neighbors said they were coming over.”

I left work early so I could be in the audience. There was no way I was going to miss this.

The Bean was standing in the lawn as I pulled up to the house, dressed in his Robin costume. Sprout was decked out in a firefighters outfit. A blanket had been placed on the lawn; in front of it was the kids play drum set and their bin of clothes. At the front of the lawn sat a small table where a jug of pink lemonade and a plate of what were obviously my wife’s homemade cookies rested.

Our neighbors soon arrived. The audience consisted of: two sweet natured 15 year-old boys who have known my kids all of their lives, their younger sister, her friend, their mom and our elderly next-door neighbor. Everyone took a seat on the blanket. I stood behind them, video camera at the ready. The show was about to begin.

The Bean stood tall in front of the audience…and said nothing. He stood there, looking at us. A small flush began to form on his cheeks. Not quite knowing how to proceed, the Bean pulled at his sister’s sleeve. Sprout was sitting on the grass with her back to us. Never turning around, she handed the Bean his paper guitar and took out her drumsticks. For a moment it looked as if they were going to start singing. But instead, Sprout beat on her drum a few times while the Bean stood there.

Next, the Bean put his face really close to Sprout’s. They stared at each other for a moment.

“You’re interrupting me!” he shouted to her.

“You’re interrupting me!” she shouted back to him.

“You’re interrupting me!” he replied.

This went on for a few minutes before somebody in the crowd wisely asked if it was perhaps time for intermission. The Bean collected 25 cents for every cup of lemonade and every cookie that was handed out.

A big musical number was promised in the second half of the show. But instead the Bean opted to do three somersaults and then help his sister do three things that kind of looked like somersaults. We applauded anyway and both he and Sprout took a bow.

We thanked the audience profusely and they soon dispersed. When all was said and done, the Bean had earned $6. He generously split it with his sister.

I have no idea where he got the idea to do the show. I can’t help but think that it was all a clever ploy to try to earn more money for the Batman submarine he’s been wanting. While the Bean may not have much stage presence, I was genuinely impressed by the thought and effort that went into his first show. I am grateful that I was there to see it.